


Wish You Could See Me

by Drakojana



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, He's also a smol sarcastic Irish bean, Jack owns a cat for plot purposes, M/M, Non-Youtubers AU, Septiplier AWAY!, Soulmate AU, and becomes a ghost, endgame septiishu, whoops Mark dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakojana/pseuds/Drakojana
Summary: Jack had never met his soulmate. All his life he thought that he simply didn't have one. So he abandoned all hope of ever finding someone.Mark had never met his soulmate either. But that didn't upset him, he was always giving his best to the world. But then the world decided to take his own life away from him, and when he meets his soulmate in his afterlife, he just knows that he has to help Jack.





	1. I guess happiness was never meant for me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... the moment I've lost you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Take a break," I said. "Wait for a few days," I said.  
> Well, it doesn't matter. Enjoy this heartbreaking first chapter.

_‘_ _Soulmates - two people tied together by fate, destined to each other for eternity. They say that if you meet yours, the whole world becomes more beautiful, you start to feel emotions you couldn't before. That the moment you meet yours, you begin to feel even more alive._ _’_

"…Or something like that," Jack mumbled to himself, reading yet another random article about soulmates while he was sitting in a cafe, waiting for his order. "Bullshit."

He'd lost any hope when all of his friends already found their soulmates and got into perfect relationships that would, of course, last until the end of their lives. So as he kept scrolling through the wall of text on the small screen, he huffed at it.

 _‘_ _There are cases of people who couldn't find their soulmate. Most of the people find each other in their own area, nearly everyone has their soulmate from the same country. Hardly ever do they have the misfortune of being born with their soulmate living somewhere of the other side of the globe._

 _But nowadays even that isn't a problem. Studies proved that meeting your soulmate through the Internet has the same effect as in real life. That's why there are hundreds of online sites providing soulmate-searching services._ _’_

Jack had never tried that. He was never particularly fond of talking with strangers, especially after he left Ireland and moved to LA. Sure, he had a couple of friends there, but lately they didn't keep in touch, especially since they all found their soulmates. 

Someone called his name, and he got up to get his coffee. He'd always get a cup from this place on his way back from work. He had a job in a small company as a web designer. It wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to do in his life, but for the time being he was stuck with it. He left the cafe to head back home.

As the green-haired man walked down the street he took small sips of the hot drink. No one paid any attention to him as his hair style wasn’t anything unusual in LA. Although he did it on the spur of moment, not for some sort of style when he and a couple of his friends got too drunk before the hairdresser managed to close their place for the day. Sure, they all liked their picks and had had a good laugh at the vibrant colours on their heads. But when a few weeks later they all found their soulmates thanks to their new hairstyles - all except for Jack - it stopped being fun. Jack wasn't sure himself why he'd decided to keep it. Perhaps it just looked bad when it faded away and it was easier to keep dying it over and over again.

The Irishman fixed the bag on his arm and quickened his pace. He felt surrounded by couples in love, best friends, mates for life. He was the only one who was alone. Alone in the world, where everybody had someone. He didn't like thinking about it, but depressing thoughts invaded his mind anyway. He didn't look where he was going so he ended up bumping into another person. He mumbled a quick apology, but the other person didn't even notice him. They were too busy talking with _their soulmate._

Jack didn't want to look at the people around him anymore. He just wanted to be back home, all by himself.

After several minutes he was finally back in his apartment. After taking off his shoes and throwing thebag on a bed he sat down in front of his laptop and booted it up to turn on Netflix. Whenever he thought too much about happy people and their happy lives with soulmates he tended to get depressed. The best cure for his mood in moments like those was to relax while watching his favourite shows.

Jack played the latest episode of _Game of Thrones_ and opened a bag of chips. His cat entered the room, announcing its entrance with a long and needy meow. He took his pet in his arms, setting it in his lap. He may not like the company of other people, but he thought that a cat would fit a loner like him perfectly. It was also not as demanding as a dog. 

After giving the cat's fur a few strokes the man put on his headphones. The Irishman had no intention of leaving his comfortable chair for the next few hours. The animal was happy with that because it could sprawl on its owner's knees and take a nap for the rest of the day.

Jack was lucky that his job wasn't demanding and he left the office at 3 P.M. And even more lucky because it was actually well-paid. Because of that, he didn't have to leave his home more than twice a day. And that meant he didn't risk running into people more often than he needed to.

* * *

Mark Fischbach was a rather happy and friendly person. He'd always have a bright smile on his face, no matter who he'd be talking to or where he'd find himself. He was the very definition of an _optimist_ \- always ready to help others to spread the happiness bubbling inside his soul. He never turned anyone down, and never wanted anything in return. And although at the age of twenty-seven he still hadn't found his soulmate, he wasn't losing his hope. He believed that being a good person can help you make the most of your life and bring you happiness.

That's why when he saw the speeding truck while he was crossing the street his first thought was _'The good guys always die first.'_

Mark didn't remember much from the accident. He saw bright lights flash his eyes. He heard the continuous sound of the car horn and some screams. He couldn't even jump away to try to dodge. He stood in one place, completely paralysed.

And then he saw darkness. Silence. Nothing.

And suddenly a flash of light. He heard some shouts. The sound of an ambulance's siren. Another flash. He heard some conversations spoken in a serious tone. Sounds of heavy footsteps. And third, final flash. Then he got his eyesight back.

He was standing in a chapel. The place was empty save for a couple of people in the front. Somebody was weeping. He also noticed a coffin behind all those people. He was afraid of approaching it, suspecting what had happened, but he didn't want to see it. Then the weeping got louder and he recognised the voice. It was a woman standing with her back turned to him - his mother.

He slowly took a few steps towards the coffin. He looked at the faces around it and recognised his closest family and some friends. But the sight of his own mother crying her eyes out was breaking his heart. He approached her and asked in a whisper:

"Mom, why are you crying?"

The woman didn't hear his words. He reached out to her, but instead of feeling her shoulder under his hand, a part of his body went right through his mother's coat.

"Oh, Mark... Why…?" the woman shivered, covering her eyes.

The black-haired man finally looked at the body in the coffin.

It was his.

At first, Mark wasn't sure how he felt about it. A short, forced laugh escaped his throat, though he was anything but happy. At the same time, he wanted to laugh at the irony of his last thought. He hadn't been dead back then, but he already knew what would've happened.

It felt so unreal. He was dead and all those people he knew were now sad because of him. It hurt like hell because he felt like he was disappointing them. He wanted to tell them that it was alright, that it was normal for a human to die… But the grief on their faces spoke more than thousands of words. And he had no way of comforting them. Because he was _dead._

More and more people started to come into the chapel. He recognised his family members among them, his co-workers and old friends he'd known from school. Most of them came with somebody by their side. He felt a bit relieved in his heart seeing how others lead good lives. They had met their soulmates and had somebody to lean on in their life.

And that's when he felt a sting in his chest.

He had never found his soulmate. But it wasn't what made him so upset.

Somewhere in the world, there was a person, whom he'd sentenced to eternal loneliness with his death.

* * *

After finishing a four-hour-long session of watching Netflix shows Jack decided to go take a shower. It was getting late, but he didn't care about that too much. He'd check various social networking sites before going to sleep anyway. 

He wasn't interested in all that feed about his Facebook friend's statuses or new photos, but he liked to think that in a way he was keeping up with the world. That he wasn't a sore loser who didn't want to talk with people, afraid that their happiness would only make him more aware of the gaping hole in his heart.

As the green-haired man was taking his shirt off in the bathroom, he suddenly felt a wave of pain sweep through his whole body. He fell over, everything aching like he'd just been forcefully hit by something heavy. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but with the intensity of the pain, it felt like forever. It took him a while to get himself together and tears formed at the corners of his eyes. A couple of deep breaths later he got up and stared at himself in the mirror.

"What in the name of everloving fuck?" Jack mumbled to his reflection. His eyes were open wide and filled with confusion. There was no logical way of explaining that. But then he remembered the article he'd read before at the cafe.

 _‘_ _There are some cases of physical bonds between soulmates. Some couples admit that they can feel their partner's pain. Most of the time it happens only when one person experiences a rather serious injury. The worst cases are when one's soulmate dies, they can feel the exact same amount of pain as the other in the moment of their death. Thankfully it's not long-lasting and quickly passes on._ _’_

The Irishman shook his head. There was no way that could be the case. It was just a random panic attack or something like that. He completely disregarded the fact that panic attacks don't work that way. But it was the only explanation he would accept.

“After all, I have no soulmate… right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first attempt at a soulmate AU, I came up with this idea while discussing the saddest types of fics with my friend, haha.  
> She also agreed to be my beta for this fic, so it's probably going to be better than my previous ones.


	2. It wasn't supposed to go this way...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... yet here we are staring at each other._

Mark was wandering on the LA streets. It'd been a couple of days after his funeral already. He looked at people around him. Everyone carried on with their lives, being happy. And of course, nobody could see him. It felt weird but the black-haired man thought whether that was what happened after death.

" _Am I really a ghost now?_ " he wondered, and accidentally passed through a random stranger on the street. The person shivered and looked around before they continued to keep walking. That made Mark realise that perhaps others could still sense him somehow. He started to test the theory by touching random people. At first, it was out of curiosity, but seeing them jump in surprise or shriek at the sudden cold sensation quickly became fun. He kept doing it and laughed at all the reactions, knowing there would be no consequences to his pranks.

Soon he found himself in a park and spotted another potential victim of his little game. It was a young blonde woman sitting on a bench by herself. She was so focused on reading a book that she wouldn't have noticed Mark even if he was a real person. He crept up to her from behind and put his translucent hand on her nape.

The reaction was immediate. She squeaked, jumping in her seat, and the book fell to the ground. The black-haired man giggled, taking a few steps back and watched his poor victim. Then someone approached her - a man with a dog on a leash. He helped her to stood up asking her if she was alright. The dog stood beside them, staring at the ghost. It barked twice when he looked at it.

"Hey buddy," he crouched, wanting to pet it. But as he reached out, his arm only passed through the animal's body and it whimpered, backing away. "Oh. That's right..." he muttered. He owned a dog as well - at least used to own while he was still alive. " _Thank God I don't have to worry about Chica anymore, now that Tyler takes care of her,"_ Mark smiled at the thought about his best friend. And then frowned, because he'd never talk with him again. "I just hope he's not blaming himself for anything..." Mark mumbled to himself.

The ghost stood up, watching as they started to leave the park. The man picked up the book and when he gave it to the woman she kissed him on the cheek. "I just suddenly felt a chill on my spine. But it's okay now that you're here," she smiled and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

Mark sighed. "Probably soulmates. _Definitely_ soulmates." His good mood was gone now, all the fun of pranking people disappearing. When he gave it a second thought he realised it didn't even feel good. It was... weird. Whenever a part of his body would pass through another person he'd also experience something cold and stingy. Like touching a knife that had been lying in the freezer for too long. Except that you'd be grabbing it by its blade.

Mark looked around and realised there was nobody in the park. Most of the people were at work and all he did for the whole day was just wander around. Actually, it was _floating_ around, but he refused to acknowledge the fact that his feet weren't touching the ground. Even taking steps felt more like swinging your legs in the air.

"Maybe I'll just go and spook in my house," he thought. "That's a thing ghosts do, right?" as he found himself on a pavement he noticed people here and there, all busy with their own stuff. The thought about his own soulmate slipped into his head yet again. "Argh, what am I supposed to do about that? I wish I could at least know what kind of person they were… are? Yeah, probably _are_. Not everyone is a goof like me to die like that."

* * *

Jack was currently on his third coffee at work. Every day he thanked whatever gods were up in the skies for the gift of the black drink. He couldn't imagine his life without a caffeine boost keeping him alive in the morning. And at noon. And afternoon. He'd never admit to any sort of addiction but his co-workers would often joke about it. Jack would laugh at it out of courtesy but he was cursing them in his mind for pointing it out so much.

His fingers were slowly going numb from all the mindless typing. From time to time he'd feel stinging in his hands but he would shrug it off, blaming it on not taking a break earlier. In theory, they only had one longer lunch break at 12 P.M. but their boss allowed minor breaks at 9 A.M. as well. The green-haired man would often skip the short break in the morning, claiming that the only thing he needed to keep him going was a hot cup of coffee.

When the lunch break came, he sighed and got up from his chair. He stretched his arms and his back, and it responded with a loud crack. "I know, I know... I should exercise more..." he mumbled and went to the employee lounge, grabbing his wallet from the bag on his way.

Unfortunately for him, the room was full of his co-workers already. It wasn't that he hated the people he worked with (though he didn't like then either), Jack was simply the youngest employee. Which meant that every day during the lunch break he was forced to listen to various life stories of middle-aged men and women. Sure, there was one secretary that was only two years older than him but she would always be busy bragging about her amazing fiancé. And for Jack that was the worst conversation topic ever.

He tried spending the break by sitting in the corner, eating lunch and browsing Twitter on his phone. A few people approached him and struck up a friendly conversation, but everyone in the office knew that the Irishman didn't like company too much, so they left him alone after a couple of minutes of forced conversations.

The rest of the day went by smoothly and when the clock struck 3 P.M. Jack was already packed up and ready to leave. He threw the bag over his arm and told all of his co-workers his mandatory "See you tomorrow". Of course, that wasn't something he was looking forward to but being at least a bit polite had never hurt anyone yet, so he tried…a little.

The green-haired man hurried home, obviously grabbing a cup of coffee from his usual place on the way, feeling exhausted already. When he got to his apartment, he fed his cat that had managed to already devour the whole content of its bowls. After he took care of the pet, he looked into his fridge, wondering what he'd eat for dinner.

To his horror, there wasn't nearly anything suitable for a meal. Jack was staring into the fridge, swallowing a lump in his throat. It meant only one thing. He had to go shopping _. He had to leave home for the second time that day._

* * *

Mark got a perfect idea. He didn't have anything to do - he didn't feel hunger or thirst, and never got sleepy anymore, so he figured that he'd go on a soulmate hunt.

"Let's just hope that miraculously it will work and I won't feel bad for touching every single person I see," over the time he started talking aloud to himself. Not that anyone would hear him anyway. "Now, if I were my own soulmate… where would I go?" the black-haired man was looking at the people he passed on his way. He was actually walking on the street, worried that passing through too many people on the pavement may cause unnecessary panic.

It was afternoon already and people were returning home from their work. Some of them would enter fast food restaurants, others would go to cafes. When Mark stared through the windows into the various places, he mostly saw people sit in pairs. "Nah, not here," in the end, he'd always mutter to himself.

He had no idea who he'd be looking for exactly, but he felt that whoever his soulmate was, they would be just as awesome as he was. "I bet they're nice and outgoing, and happy… Who else would fit someone as great as me?" he grinned at his own joke. Sure, he may be dead, but he had no plans of losing his sense of humour (and ego).

Someone caught his attention. It was a teenage girl carrying way too many shopping bags. They were filled with food and house supplies, and she was barely able to lift them all. But the most important thing was that she was _alone_. Mark approached her and lightly tapped her shoulder. To his surprise, she jumped away, letting go of all of the bags. He heard her curse under her breath and after she quickly got her stuff together, she hurried back home. Then something clicked in the man's head.

"That's it! Stores!" he exclaimed happily and immediately went to visit the local supermarket. "Everyone has to go buy food and stuff like that!" Mark was proud of his amazing line of thought. He didn't risk a lot, other than the shop being closed down due to being haunted by a ghost, but he hoped that the plan would work before something like that could happen.

Luckily for him, the store was full of people doing shopping. The black-haired man made sure to avoid families and couples, looking only for loners. At first, he decided to float around the aisle with frozen products and refrigerators so that a sudden touch of something cold wouldn't startle too many innocent bystanders. But after doing that for some time, Mark's ghostly hand started to hurt more and more, and once it even stung so hard, he screeched in pain.

"It might've been a bad idea…" he clutched his hand and walked away from them a few steps. Now he felt guilty for causing everyone discomfort just because of his own personal whim. "Maybe I should just go home and forget about it. Hell, I died before meeting a soulmate, so what would it give me now?" the discouragement started to get to him and Mark forgot to look where he was going.

He nearly ended up bumping into someone - well, as much as a ghost can "bump into" a person without completely going through them. The stranger was reaching for something from the shelf that the black-haired American was standing in front of at the moment. The person's arm went through Mark's invisible body and he felt a weird tingly sensation. For the very first time, it didn't feel cold or painful, but surprisingly… pleasant. The stranger also seemed to feel weird, because they quickly retracted their arm, staring at it in confusion.

Mark finally looked at the person's face. And in that one moment, he knew. It was _him_. That scrawny-looking guy, all dressed up in a loose T-shirt, a hoodie and black jeans, with a slight stubble on his face and vibrant green hair. The black-haired man didn't notice the person's expression earlier, but he was sure he hadn't been smiling the way he was now, and he looked gorgeous.

The ghost stood in place, unmoving as he watched the mysterious man put a carton of juice in his shopping basket and turn around to leave. He kept smiling and even started humming to himself. When he disappeared behind the corner after he left towards the cash register, Mark finally got himself together. Not being able to contain the sudden burst of happiness, he could only yell.

"I-it's you! It's you! I've found you!"

Of course, nobody could hear him. Perhaps it was a good thing, as he was close to running around in circles, shouting on top of his ghostly lungs.

* * *

" _It's just a quick trip, Jack,"_ he tried to calm himself when he got to the supermarket and grabbed a shopping basket. " _Just grab whatever is on sale and go home. Without catching anyone's attention-"_ he didn't even finish the thought when his stomach growled loudly, earning him funny stares from people around. _"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Plan B: pretend that nothing happened and hide in the next aisle."_

The Irishman grinned sheepishly and hurried through the shop to get away from the people that heard the noises his stomach decided to betray him with. " _Off to a great start. Everyone's glarin' at me already."_ He stopped by a random shelf, trying to catch a breath. He absolutely hated unnecessary attention and it would only make him uneasy.

" _Remember, you're here just for some food. Just. Food,"_ Jack looked at the products around him. Apparently the aisle he chose to flee to turned out to have cleaning products. His eyes landed on the bottles of bleach. " _Might as well drink that to get away from the embarrassment,_ " he thought sarcastically. " _Come on, Jackaboy. Man up, the faster you do it, the sooner you'll get back home."_

After a couple of minutes of sneaking around the store and putting stuff the green-haired man found tasty into his basket, Jack was finished with his shopping. On his way to the cash register, he only stopped once more to get something to drink. " _Let's pretend I eat healthily and get some orange juice,_ " he thought, aware of the fact that his meal choices weren't exactly what someone would call a balanced diet.

He reached to grab a carton, but before he could even touch it, he felt weird tingly sensation in his arm. The Irishman instantly withdrew his hand, staring at it dumbfounded. He was familiar with that type of thing because whenever he'd work for too long he would get the same feeling. Except that it spread across his whole body, sending chills down his spine, and it somehow seemed funny at that moment.

He smiled, unsure as to why he suddenly felt happy. His mood changed drastically, and as he shook his head and grabbed the juice, he started to hum a song he'd heard from the store's speakers before. When he walked away he felt as if someone was calling him, but there wasn't anyone behind him. He just shrugged and kept smiling for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our unfortunate ghost finally meets his soulmate! But how is it going to change Jack's life? :)


	3. You're different from what I imagined...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... but my imagination was never good in the first place._

Were Mark a little bit less of an idiot, he would've followed his newly found soulmate immediately. Yet he was too busy celebrating to notice the green-haired man leave the store. When he realised that he'd lost him from his sights, the uncontainable joy suddenly switched places with panic.

"Shit, Mark, you big, big, doofus! Where did he go?" the black-haired man scolded himself, rushing through the shelves to exit the building. Fortunately for him, his soulmate's green hair was easy to spot even in a crowd. He followed the mysterious stranger, keeping a safe distance between them. There wasn't any particular reason for him to do that, but Mark, being the idiot he was, hid behind lampposts and in alleys like a stalker.

He wasn't aware of the fact that he was creeping up on the green-haired man until he followed him all the way to his apartment and stopped in front of his door. The fact that it was closed wasn't an obstacle the ghost couldn't overcome, but rather it was about the whole act of entering uninvited. He stood there, contemplating whether he should enter or not. It felt wrong to invade the other person’s privacy. In the end, Mark supposed that since he was his soulmate and wouldn't see him anyway, it would be fine.Suddenly he realised he was justifying it in his own mind.

"It's going to be alright, you're here to get to know him," he took a deep breath (a habit he didn’t get rid of yet) and went through the door.

Whatever Mark was expecting, it certainly was not… _that_.

* * *

As soon as Jack got back home, he instantly shoved the pre-prepared steak he'd bought into the microwave. His stomach kept growling, demanding a proper meal even more since he left the store.

"Shut up, gimme a minute…" as he was waiting for the meat to heat up, he took off his shoes and unpacked the rest of the groceries. His cat, drawn to the noise, looked at its owner curiously. Of course, its bowl was empty again. “At last one of us always remembers about the food,” the Irishman sighed and pet its head ~~.~~

Jack didn't even bother with the cutlery; he was so hungry that when he took the steak out of the microwave, he wanted to shove it right into his mouth. Of course, he soon regretted it as it was too hot. The green-haired man had to put the plate down and wait for it to cool down, taking quick breaths to ease the burn in his mouth.

Maybe it was out of a bad habit, or because he was alone, but Jack couldn't stand still for even a minute. He took out his phone out of the pocket and scrolled through his Facebook feed while waiting. He may have had a good mood a couple of minutes earlier, but one picture too many on his screen was enough to ruin it all. It was one of his old friends from Ireland - the photo depicted him and his girlfriend, or fiancée, as the description suggested ~~.~~

The green-haired man threw the phone on the table, not even bothering to lock the screen. "Fuck you," he spat with annoyance. "Who the fuck needs happiness in their life. Not me," he crossed his arms like an offended child, forgetting about his hunger for a moment. But another growl reminded him about his basic needs and this time he grabbed a knife and a fork.

When he finished eating he poured himself a glass of the juice and gulped it down in one go. As he set the empty glass in the sink, he felt a shiver run down his spine. Jack quickly turned around, because for a moment it felt like someone else was in his apartment.

"Calm down, you're alone. And really, who would even come to visit a loser like me…" he sighed and picked up the phone again. The screen was still displaying the photo. Unable to look at it anymore, he shoved it back into his pocket. "Soulmates… As if I need one,” he mumbled the lie he had been telling himself for years and years now.

* * *

Mark, as probably everyone on Earth at this point, heard stories about soulmates. How they were someone you'd get along with no matter what. That they would be the missing piece of your heart. Someone you'd love till the end of your life because they'd make everything finally seem complete.

Yet when he was standing in the living room of the person whom he'd supposed was his, none of it seemed to be true. The ghost realised he took that smile the green-haired man has shown him in the store for granted. Now that he saw him in his apartment, his soulmate turned out to be this grumpy, introverted, sarcastic… Irishman?

The accent was probably the most confusing thing. They were in LA, and Mark had never met anyone from Ireland or the UK in his life. He wanted to ask him why he'd ended up all the way in America, but he couldn't… obviously.

The black-haired man watched his soulmate perform his usual everyday tasks. Which he also realised were extremely disappointing. Jack McLoughin (as Mark learned by looking at the work ID lying in the bag), turned out to be a loner and spent his evenings on watching shows and playing video games on his laptop. He had "friends" on Facebook, but that's all they were. He didn't chat with them or comment their posts.

Mark found that outrageous. Being the social butterfly he'd always been, he just couldn't understand how the green-haired man could be content with that type of life. When Jack sat down and put on the headphones to watch something on Netflix again, the ghost felt fury bubble up in his chest.

"How can you just do that?! Oh come on, there are places to be, people to meet outside!" he wanted to grab Jack's arm and pull him out of the chair, but his hands only went through the other's body. This caused the Irishman to giggle and scratch his arm.

"The heck was that?" he asked in an amused voice, and Mark felt funny tingling in his hands as well. Suddenly, happiness spread through him just like it had back in the store.

"This isn't going to work if I'll just keep tickling him," the ghost crossed his arms, trying to think of a new strategy. Instantly a mischievous idea popped up into his head. He touched his soulmate again, this time putting his hand on the other's neck.

Of course, he didn't expect Jack to jump up like that. Or to scream like a girl. Or to fall off his chair while rapidly taking off his headphones.

"What. The. Fuck," Irishman whispered, rubbing his neck. "Okay, enough is enough. Time for a shower."

Mark felt slightly guilty when Jack left the room to head towards the bathroom.

"You've done it now, Fischbach," he sighed and sat down on the Irishman's bed.

* * *

The first thing Jack did before taking off his clothes was locking the bathroom's door. He knew that his apartment was locked up and he was alone, but the weird feeling of uneasiness was telling him he should be careful. Then he turned on the cold water in the sink and splashed his face with it.

"Reality check, done," he muttered, looking at himself in the mirror. "Maybe I'm just itching or something after the whole day."

He took off his clothes, throwing them in the laundry basket and got in the shower. The feeling of warm water on his back was always a pleasant sensation, though this time he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Jack didn't want to give it too much thought and let himself relax.

Time quickly passed, and when he turned the water off, a cold breeze hit his skin. He shivered and wrapped himself up in a towel. Jack dried his hair with a smaller, green one (to not accidentally dye his white towels) and brushed it a bit before drying off the rest of his body.

 _Nah, don't feel like watching anything anymore_ , he thought as he left the bathroom. He had a feeling that it was a bit colder lately in his apartment, and went over to the heater to turn it up. The last stop before the bedroom was the kitchen, where he drunk another glass of juice before sleep.

* * *

One thing Mark didn’t figure out about being a ghost yet was that if you did nothing and lose yourself in thoughts, time would pass much faster. It was nearly like he'd assume he'd be thinking for half an hour, and that half an hour would be gone in an instant before you knew it.

That's why he didn't expect Jack to come back as soon as he did. The black-haired American got startled, but only a bit. This time he decided not to do anything and just sit back and watch.

He didn't even think too much about the fact that the Irishman wasn't wearing anything save for the towel wrapped around his waist. He wasn't aware of Mark's presence, so when he took out one of the oversized shirts he used as his pyjamas out of the closet, he let the towel drop to the floor.

Mark immediately looked away, and if he still had a body, he'd be bright red all over his face. He was too embarrassed to look back even after he was sure that Jack wasn't naked anymore. He got up from the bed, covering his eyes. "Don't look until he gets in the bed, Mark. Just don't do it."

Fortunately for him, he soon heard the squeaking noise, but not before Jack snatched his phone from the desk and shut down his laptop. The black-haired man finally looked back at him, uncovering his face. His soulmate was currently in his bed, scrolling down on Twitter on his phone with his head on the pillow.

"Maybe I'll get up early to get to work before everyone else," Mark heard Jack mumble to himself as he put his phone away. "I don't want to hear Robin talk about the fuckin' budget cuts again… Gosh, let me skip the morning meeting."

The American couldn't stand by and just watch his supposed soulmate waste his life like that. He had to do something, to help him somehow. So that's what he decided.

"I'm your new roommate, starting now, whether you like it or not!" he announced loudly, pointing accusingly at Jack's face. The Irishman, being completely unaware, simply yawned and turned the lights off, leaving Mark to himself in the darkness.

"Right, you need your sleep," the American mumbled and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Goodnight." But when he heard the green-haired man's breath even out, signalling that he was asleep, Mark jumped away with a yelp.

"Nope. Not a stalker. Nu-uh. It's time to leave before this gets any more awkward," and with that, he left Jack's bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that's official: there will be no updates on Fridays. Personal issues and unnecessary pressure and stuff.
> 
> Tfw you want to write a new chapter but you're getting ideas for more and more stories… Speaking of which; I'm looking for someone who would proofread/beta my future septiplier fanfics. Anyone interested? (I recommend reading my two other fanfics from the YT fandom to get a better feeling of my writing style)
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment, it always makes me smile to read your thoughts!


	4. With your every lonely breath...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... my heart shatters into millions of pieces._

For the next couple of days, Mark was following his soulmate to work. He sat on the edge of Jack's desk, observing his everyday routine. He mostly focused on watching all of his interactions with others - or actually the lack of thereof. His concern only grew larger and larger whenever he overheard the Irishman's conversations.

One of these days the black-haired man finally saw the co-worker Jack had been always complaining about. "Oh no, not Robin," Mark heard his soulmate mutter under his breath. Of course, the green-haired man did notice someone approaching his desk, but he immediately pretended to be focusing on something on his monitor.

The ghost felt a twist of nervousness within him. Judging by Jack's attitude, it would not go well. The other man rubbed his eyes before speaking up.

"Jack, I need you to do somethin-"

The Irishman's reply was immediate. "Not now. I'm busy," he kept his eyes glued to the screen. Mark wondered if he had the response ready in his mind already.

"You're always busy."

Jack whipped his head up and sent his co-worker a glare. "Well, because I actually _work_ and not bother other people!" When he realised he'd snapped at Robin, he lowered his gaze with embarrassment.

The other man narrowed his eyes and slapped some papers on the green-haired man's desk. "Sure. Have fun with that," his voice was dry, hinting his annoyance.

Mark couldn't handle watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. "No, no, no! Why? Why did you get angry at him? He's just doing his job!" he kept yelling at Jack, who slowly got back to the task at hand. The Irishman sighed as he eventually eyed the pile of papers.

"Could've at least asked him what this is all about…" there was a clear hint of regret in his whisper.

"You're hopeless!" Mark groaned. "I'm hopeless! This whole situation is hopeless!"

And yet the ghost stayed by Jack's side till the rest of his work shift, though there were moments where only being dead stopped him from strangling his soulmate. And the green-haired man, on the other hand, couldn't shake a feeling of uneasiness off of him.

* * *

A few days had passed, and Jack noticed something odd about his cat. Sure, felines tended to be weird from time to time but his own suddenly started acting like it got possessed by some kind of demon.

It first began when he came back from work one day and the cat simply hissed at him, when its owner tried to pet it.

"Bad day, huh?"

The green-haired man wrote it off as a one-time thing, but it started getting more and more annoying when his cat would hiss at him as he was giving it its food. ~~~~

Those weren't the only weird new habits of his cat. Sometimes it would stare at a wall for hours, not even bothering to acknowledge its owner presence in the room. Jack found himself fighting for its attention, annoyed that the animal would even ignore him as he waved his hand in front of its eyes.

Sure, one time he did manage to get noticed, only to get scratched on his arm.

"You son of a-!" he shouted and startled the cat, which fled to his bedroom.

The Irishman bandaged the wound, thankfully it wasn't too severe though he still had to stop the bleeding. _Are there psychologists for cats? Cause I swear if there are, I'm taking that little shit to one!_ He snorted at his own joke.

His peaceful moment of silence soon got interrupted by some suspicious noise coming from his room. Jack sighed in irritation the moment he heard something falling, proceeded by the oh so familiar hissing.

"If you broke something, I swear…" he grumbled, making his way to the bedroom. And sure, the cat was sitting on the floor by his desk, his headphones lying next to it. The animal was staring at its owner's bed, swaying its tail nervously.

"Okay, buddy, seriously. What the hell's wrong with you lately?" Jack cocked his head, feeling quite puzzled.

* * *

"Oh shit-"

Mark stepped back as the cat jumped on the desk, knocking the headphones off in the process. When they fell with a soft thud to the floor, he heard his soulmate's footsteps.

"Shh, shh, calm down!" the dark-haired man still tried to helplessly calm the feline down. He was slowly getting tired of it, even though he loved animals.

It had been watching him ever since he stepped into Jack's apartment for the very first time. In the beginning, he was surprised that it could see him, unlike humans. But then it just became unsettling, its yellow eyes always burning holes at the back of his head.

And it clearly didn't like the ghost in its owner home. Every time Mark got too close to Jack, it would hiss at him, sometimes even try to swat at him. Thankfully the other rules of being a spirit still applied, and it couldn't touch him.

But it sure as hell could touch its owner. Like an hour ago when Jack had to put the bandage on his arm. Even seeing it now as the green-harried man entered the bedroom gnawed a pang of guilt at Mark’s heart.

"Sorry for that one," he muttered for what felt like a thousand time today, though, of course, Jack couldn't hear him. It made Mark even more guilty. Damn it, he wanted to be there to put the bandage on and then kiss it like in some god damn romance and… and…

He sighed and sat down on the bed, and to his surprise, when the green-haired man put his headphones back in their place, he sat down right next to him. The cat was still eyeing the ghost suspiciously, and its owner sighed heavily.

"Now you're back to pretending I don't exist, huh?" the Irishman pouted.

Mark found that kinda cute. He still wished he could touch his soulmate at least once - _really_ touch, linking their fingers together. His hand slowly slid towards Jack's, hoping it wouldn't scare him too much.

The cat though had different plans. As if being its owner's guardian, it pounced on the bed, right between him and the ghost. Mark yelped out and retreated his hand, accidentally knocking something off the bedside table. It turned out to be a cup that Jack had left it there the day before ~~~~.

"Jaysus, what the fuck!" the green-haired man screamed when he heard something crash on the floor. He immediately stood up to walk around his bed and inspect what had broken.

"S-sorry! I'm so sorry!" without giving it any thought, a string of apologies left Mark's mouth. He genuinely felt upset for breaking the cup. "I didn't mean to- That cat startled me! I’m really…"

Suddenly he stopped, hearing Jack start… laughing? The Irishman, though still a bit confused, giggled as he picked up the broken pieces.

"Stupid me," Jack talked to himself in between the giggles. "I probably just put it on the edge and scared myself."

The ghost stared at his soulmate dumbfounded for a minute before the green-haired man left the room. Mark then glanced at the cat that was still on the bed, now licking its paw.

"I know I'm a dog person, but I like cats too, you know? Maybe we can sort out a compromise here?"

The animal only slowly blinked at him in content. The dark-haired man smiled. Then something clicked in his mind.

"Wait… How did I knock that cup off, anyway? I thought I couldn't touch anything…"

The cat, as if understanding his words (and hearing them in the first place), let out a small meow and looked at him like he was the dumbest man on the planet Earth to not figuring it out before. Mark could almost hear its sigh: “ _Humans._ ”

"Yeah, yeah, we can work this out. So… will you let me finally get close to your owner?"

The animal looked at him for a few seconds and jumped off the bed and then left the room. Mark chuckled and shouted after it.

"I'm taking it as a yes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't forget about this fic, I just got really invested into another story...  
> So the updates may be slow, and I'm sorry if this chapter sucks!


	5. I want to say I'm sorry...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... But it's harder than it seems._

It was so typical for Jack's life to go downhill.  He had never considered himself lucky but what was happening in around him lately was some _special_ type of misfortune. He didn’t want to sound dramatic but after that broken cup things just started to move by themselves and it freaked him out to no end.

At first, it wasn't that big of a deal. Sometimes a plate would move by itself a bit to the right, making the Irishman think he pushed it with his elbow in the middle of eating. Or one of the pillows would fall over and he would blame it on himself for not putting it up right.

But soon it changed. His cat's bowls would suddenly end up on the other side of the kitchen while Jack wasn't looking, the cups and glasses would switch positions on the shelves, or a half-open drawer would shut. And the thing was, he couldn't write it off to his own carelessness anymore. Because everything was happening without him being even remotely close to the objects.

The green-haired man even tried to make his pet the culprit, until one particular morning. When he was eating cereal for breakfast again, his cat was quietly lapping its milk. Suddenly, it stopped and let out a loud cry.

"What's wrong? Too cold?" Jack put his own spoon down and glanced at the feline.

In response, it jumped on the table, sitting right next to its owner's food. It meowed again and turned its head to look in the direction of Jack's bedroom. As if on cue, the door that had been open ever since he left the room after getting up, slowly closed itself with a creak.

"What. The fuck!" – the Irishman shouted spinning his head back and forth looking for some open window or anything remotely sensible that would explain it.

The cat jumped, hearing his outburst and now stood on guard, with its tail swaying from one side to another.

"I have a ghost. I swear to god, I have a fucking ghost in here. Great. Just great. Like my life is not fucked up enough already."

Finding himself unable to finish the breakfast Jack hurried to finish dressing up, his now shaking hands and stomach that twisted itself into a knot certainly did not help. The last thing he did was grab the bag and storm out of the apartment as soon as possible. He hadn’t even felt hunger anymore, just nausea.

 _Like something has changed in me_ , he thought, trying to shake off that feeling.   

* * *

Mark, on the other hand, was sitting in the corner the moment Jack left. He was hiding his head in shame, feeling like the biggest jerk in the universe.

"I didn't mean to scare him!" He whined, his voice muffled by the hands on his face. Still, nobody was there to listen to him.

The cat approached him and sat down at a respectable distance. Its soft paws were too quiet for the ghost to hear, so it announced its close presence with another sound.

"I screwed up, I know." Mark continued. "I'm an idiot."

_Meow._

"I shouldn't have done that. I always do shit without thinking!"

_Meow._

"He's going to be even more paranoid now! I was supposed to help him!"

Finally, a hiss. Seemed that even the cat was done with his lamenting. The ghost slowly got up, rubbing his eyes. He may not be able to cry anymore but there was still this awful feeling that was pretty close to that. The pet gave him a slow blink, probably glad that he stopped whining.

"Do you think he was serious about the whole 'ghost' stuff?" He suddenly asked. The feline didn't feel like gracing this question with a response, walking away without taking a second glance towards the ghost. Not that Mark noticed as he was now wondering in a serious tone.

"I wanted him to notice me, and he kinda did? So, if he believes there's a ghost in the apartment, won't that be a step forward?"

Then, he looked around to see that the cat wasn't even in the same room as him anymore.

"Hey, I need someone to talk to! You're my wingman!" He followed the pet. "I can't figure this on my own!"

He found it laying near the front door among Jack's scattered shoes. It shot him a glare that practically said _Yes you can, you dumbass_ and closed its eyes to sleep.

Mark sighed and walked off to start planning how he was going to win his soulmate's trust back. He wouldn't admit it out loud but he was getting into this whole business pretty seriously.

* * *

If there was one good thing about Jack's job, it was that sitting in front of the computer for eight hours would successfully turn him into a mindless machine. It somehow made him stop thinking about the morning events before the clock hit 10 A.M. and when he left the office, he had completely different stuff on his mind.

Like buying new clothes for example. Being the antisocial shut-in and not going out that often was one thing but realising your favourite black T-shirt was turning grey was another. It wasn't that hard to find something for himself. The green-haired man had a simple style and knew his sizes. A quick trip to two or three clothing shops and he got himself two shirts and one pair of trousers.

Once he was back in his apartment, Jack went on to make himself something to eat. He wouldn't describe it as 'good' mood, he was feeling _okay_. In fact, so 'okay' that he didn't even notice the small changes in the kitchen. The bowl he'd abandoned in the morning was now waiting to be washed in the sink and both the box of cereal and the milk was put back in their place.

The Irishman busied himself with various things till the end of the day. The clothes he'd bought were waiting for him on the bed since after entering the apartment he'd left them in the bedroom. After he took a shower in the evening and returned to the room, he stared at them for a good minute.

" It won't hurt to try them on again…" Jack mumbled, taking one of the shirts and the trousers out of the shopping bags. He changed and went to the bathroom since that was the only place in the whole apartment with a mirror. Not that he needed one anywhere else. He didn’t have anyone to look good for anyway, Jack thought a bit bitter.

The green-haired man was never one for selfies. But when he stood in front of the mirror in the new outfit, he thought he could take a picture to post it on Facebook. His current profile picture was over a year old, so he thought he could at least update. Not that people would care. Or that he gave a shit about others' opinion.

“Just pretend that you have a life or something,” he told himself trying to look the best as he could on the selfie.

* * *

Mark also thought Jack's new clothes looked good on him. He may have already been used to seeing his soulmate in dark tees but there was something about the new one that made him look… cute? It was simple, the small size and the colour fitted the Irishman's scrawny build. Though the image overprinted on it was a logo of some heavy metal band Mark didn't exactly recognise, it was exactly the other's style. And the slim ripped trousers hugged his legs quite nicely. The ghost caught himself staring at his soulmate's ass for a bit too long. He chuckled awkwardly. _One of the pluses of being dead -  you never get caught,_ he thought.

On the other hand, he wished he could tell all those compliments straight to Jack's face. He imagined how Jack would blush and try to tell him that the complements are nonsense and he would hug and kiss him and tell him how cute he was and…

“Stop right there,” Mark told himself. “You are a ghost, remember? You are a ghost.”

He stood back in the bathroom's doorway and watched as the Irishman took out his phone and posed for the picture. Mark smiled and waved to the camera, though he knew he was being silly. Cute couple photos were only dreams, thanks to his own state.

A soft click from the device announced that the picture was taken. Jack lowered his hand to look at his selfie before posting it online. The ghost hovered over his shoulder, careful not to touch the other to see it for himself as well. It looked decent, though the camera seemed not to be focused entirely on the person in the shot. The green-haired man muttered something under his breath and made the new post on Facebook. Once it was up, he went back to the bedroom to change into his pyjamas and go to sleep.

Mark sighed, following Jack to the other room. It was nice to see his soulmate smile, even if for a while but now the expression on his face was back to being the usual indifferent one. He wanted to ask, why even bother with the smile if everyone who knew him would realise he was faking it for the picture. A part of the ghost was hopeful that somewhere deep inside the green-haired man still hadn't given up.

That day Mark sat down next to Jack's bed, on the floor. He didn't watch his soulmate fall asleep but he did listen to his breathing. Once it evened out, he sighed content that Jack could relax if only for a few hours.

"You don't even know how much I want to apologise to you. For screwing up your life, in a way. I mean, if I didn't die, maybe we would've finally met. For god's sake, we lived in the same city. Sooner or later I'd find you. I guess I did. Like, a fucking day too late."

He didn't know where it was coming from but suddenly he felt angry and sad at the same time. The frustration he'd been trying so hard to deny all this time was begging to be let out. And once he started, he couldn't stop.

"Now you're stuck alone and I'm here pretending I know how to fix this. I can't. It's impossible. I mean, I can't just go like 'Oh hey, I'm Mark, your dead soulmate! Let's go on a date, I hope you don't mind I'm a ghost!'"

He laughed humorlessly. The itching in his eyes was back.

"Would you look at that, now I want to cry. But I can't do even that because I'm fucking dead. I can't do shit. I'm… sorry, Jack. Really. You'll probably never know, though. You'll just carry on with your life, all by yourself without knowing I am the one who fucked you over. And maybe you'll move out because there's this stupid shit happening in the apartment cause your dumb ass soulmate has no clue how to communicate."

Mark laid down, curling up into a ball. Funny, how a thought of wanting to die crossed his mind. Seemed that wasn't an option anymore either.

* * *

Jack wasn't asleep yet. There was one thing that bothered him. There was something in the picture he'd taken before but it was hard to focus on it when his eyes were closing on him. He put the phone down and let his mind drift away to the land of dreams when he heard something.

A… voice?

He froze in place, his eyes wide open as he listened.

" _You don't even know how much I want to apologise to you._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry for making you guys wait for nearly two months!  
> But look, progress! It seems our lonely Irishman may be finally becoming aware of a new visitor...  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter as usual, kudos and comments are appreciated!


	6. No matter how you look at it, it's impossible...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... but impossible things happen all the time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM NOT DEAD AND NEITHER IS THIS SERIES  
> I am seriously so so sorry I didn't update it for so long! There are no excuses OTL  
> I hope you are still around to read this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> It's time to kick the plot forward.

When Jack woke up the next day, he… well, he wasn’t feeling like getting out of the bed. To be honest it wasn't anything unusual for him to just turn off the alarm clock and bury his face in the pillow for the next five minutes or optional few hours (It was just one time thing. And he wanted his job too much to risk doing it again), but it was certainly weird for him not to fall back asleep and instead lay with his eyes wide open and his thoughts racing through the mind.

The dream he'd had was yet another strange thing that was lately happening in his life. The most unnerving aspect of it, however, was the fact that he wasn't sure if that was a dream in the first place. He could remember it so clearly - he hadn't been asleep when he heard the voice.

It was a deep, rich baritone with a sad undertone. Whatever it was, it sounded genuinely apologetic. And it was apologising to _him_. It had evidently said his name.

_"I'm… sorry, Jack. Really."_

The Irishman's hand flew towards the bedside table to snatch the phone from it. It didn't even make sense to think about the blurry picture from yesterday, yet there he was, sitting up as he frantically searched for the photo.

He managed to get two likes and one reaction on the post already. He snorted at the heart and his sister's name right next to it. He could hate the whole humanity but Jack couldn't deny that his family wasn't so bad.

The picture was exactly as he'd remembered - his face not as focused as it should be, the blur indicating that the camera had detected another face-like object. It wasn't anything too unusual, phones tended to do that. But when the green-haired man zoomed in on the photo, first on his face, then moving it around to inspect it carefully, he finally understood why the focus was all over the place.

Just behind him, in the doorway. There was some sort of blurred shadow that could be interpreted as human. Hell, it even seemed to have a face and had one arm raised as if it were waving!

"Holy shit!" Jack shouted and jumped out of the bed. He had no idea how exactly that discovery made him feel. Scared? Happy? Anxious? Excited? "There _is_ a fucking ghost in my apartment!"

The Irishman was shocked, that much he was certain of. Normally, a person should've been more terrified by a paranormal presence in their house, and he _was_ freaking out, just not as much as he expected himself to be. The thoughts of the dialogue he'd overheard the night before were lingering at the back of his head. Something was telling him that this ghost - or whatever that actually was supposed to be, since a "ghost" didn't sound like something real - didn't have any bad intentions.

Having been woken up by the commotion, Jack's cat trotted over to its bowl near the kitchen and started making its own noise. Its owner soon emerged from his room and made his way to the kitchen, still wearing his pyjamas.

"I bet you knew about this all along!" The green-haired man pointed at his pet and tried to sound accusing, though he was wearing a weird mix of a scowl and a smile on his face. " _That_ 's why you've been acting so strange! I bet cats can see all paranormal weird magical hocus-pocus all the time. Or _maybe_  you can even do some tricks but you just hide it from humans, so we don't know. It would explain all bunch of things about you!”

The feline let out another small noise looking at its owner with a totally unimpressed look, which definitely told Jack that cat is more demanding about getting its morning meal rather than listening to its owner's rants or doing any kind of magic. Jack chuckled to himself feeling a bit more relaxed than a few minutes ago and finally fed his cat.

 

* * *

 

Mark was quite confused about his feelings as well. He felt like he was about to burst out with happiness, though at the same time he felt anxious. Sure, Jack did finally notice him and that was a great progress. But then again, there was one big question hanging in the air.

_Now what?_

He had to admit, the ghost hadn't thought about it that far. He was partically hoping for some kind of a miracle to happen that would magically make him look like a normal human, all visible and stuff.

Mark didn't want to push his luck by startling his soulmate first thing in the morning, so he decided to look at the Irishman from behind the kitchen counter. Normally he'd try to grab a chair to sit down next to him by the table but the American had a feeling that wouldn't end well.

Jack was surprisingly talkative this morning. Even if his companion was a cat and couldn't talk back.

"Now that I know what you can see, I will remember," the green-haired man was talking with his mouth half-full of cereal as he stared at his pet. "Next time I catch you finding a wall more interesting than me, I'm throwing something that way."

Mark winced.

"Why the hell would that be a good idea?"

As his soulmate didn't seem to hear him this time, Jack simply continued his monologue.

"How long has it been here? A few days? Oh, if only I could make that arsehole pay for all the times they scared me…"

The cat stopped eating its meal and shot its owner an unamused look.

"What? Hey, I've got an idea." The Irishman mused with the spoon hanging in the air. "Maybe I should call… an exorcist."

"Absolutely not!" Mark shouted out, his voice suddenly desperate. "Please don't! I haven't even done anything evil!"

"I can't live in a haunted apartment, can I?" Jack's obliviousness only added to the ghost's anxiety.

"No more moving your stuff around! I promise!" Mark was begging, hoping his soulmate would finally hear his pleas. "Just don't kick me out! I still need to help you!"

"… Or I'll just look this up on the internet."

The American felt like fainting when he heard the last sentence. It was such a relief to hear that Jack wasn't going to try anything extreme. He may have never done anything wrong in his life but he wasn't feeling confident enough to experience an exorcism.

Mark watched as Jack got ready for work and left, his mood still a mix of excitement and fear. The ghost hoped it was going to get only better from now on.

 

* * *

 

Jack couldn't stop thinking about the whole thing. His thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the previous night, the speech replaying in his mind.

Robin came in a few times to his room to drop off some documents as well as pick up the finished work, surprised to see his workmate in a good mood. Still, he shrugged it off as Jack's quirkiness, the guy never seemed like a friendly type anyway.

The green-haired man didn't even notice when the eight hours passed by. He was glad to leave, as he had plans for the rest of the day. Well, they didn't seem any different from his usual evening - he was planning to spend most of the time on the internet, although this time he had a purpose.

Once he was back in his apartment, he hastily prepared himself a meal and threw some cat food into his pet's bowl so it wouldn't bother him later.

"Here's the deal," he whispered, leaning against the kitchen table and eyeing the animal. "I'm going to go into my room and do some research. Do you think you can keep whatever-it-is busy?"

The cat ignored its food and sat down, staring at its owner with the same unreadable, half-bored expression.

"I've realised it probably can hear me. And you know, if you're planning to get rid of it, you don't want it to know how." It wasn't necessary for Jack to use so many gestures as he talked. Neither it was alright to talk to his pet as if it was another human. But he was far from normal at this point.

Once his food was ready, he grabbed the steaming plate and locked himself in his bedroom. One way or another, the Irishman was determined to find out what exactly was trying to get on his nerves.

 

* * *

 

"Should I be worried?"

Mark was sitting cross-legged on the floor - though for him it felt more like levitating. He had been intensively staring at his soulmate's bedroom door for about an hour now. The cat stood in a respectable distance from him, its sharp eyes never leaving his form. They weren't on a warpath anymore but it still wouldn't trust the ghost in its apartment.

"What if he seriously brings an exorcist here?" The American started fiddling with his ethereal thumbs. "Do you think it's painful when you're sprayed with holy water?"

The animal mewed and moved its tail in irritation. It clearly didn't like the subject of water and Mark couldn't blame it. So he continued asking questions into the void, knowing that nobody besides the feline could hear them. He knew he wasn't going to get any answers but talking seemed to keep him sane.

Jack was gone for over two hours and over the time the American didn't hear a single sound coming from the room. It did nothing to soothe his ever-growing anxiety but he told himself to be patient. He had good intentions of helping his soulmate but Mark knew it was impossible to force somebody to be happy. If the Irishman's choice would be to get rid of him, he'd have to accept it, no matter how sad the thought of it made him.

When he heard the handle of the door move he got up instantaneously and his gaze landed on Jack emerging from his room. The green-haired man wore a puzzled expression on his face and his eyes looked a bit tired. Whatever he'd found on the Internet, didn't help him solve the mysterious case. The ghost chewed on his bottom lip nervously. He really wanted to give his soulmate a hug, he looked like he was in need of one at the moment.

 

* * *

 

Jack collapsed on the nearest chair as soon as he walked into the kitchen. He felt too distracted to even bother with making himself some tea. Looking up ghosts online was a lost cause, most of the articles were about the typical horror stories made up by fans of the paranormal stuff. Sure, he'd managed to find a couple of actual leads that could help him and he did bookmark those sites but for now, he was too exhausted. It was barely 8 P.M. and he already felt in need of a long sleep.

His cat hopped onto the kitchen table and gave him a worried look. Or so the Irishman guessed since the animal's expression hardly ever changed. He just liked to assume the feline would be concerned about its owner as much as he cared for it. His lips curled up into a tight smile and he reached out to give it a pet. The cat gladly lowered its head and scooted closer to Jack, purring happily.

"They're… not bad, are they?" He mused, scratching behind the animal's ears. "You'd protect me if they were trying to hurt me, right?"

The feline flopped down on its side, stretching its paws out with a squeaky noise. Jack laughed at that, he hadn't seen his cat be so comfortable in a while. He continued petting it for around fifteen minutes, letting the action relax him as well.

When the green-haired man got up, the animal made a small sound of protest due to the lack of touch. He kept smiling as he made himself some tea. He didn't feel like staying up that day so his plan was to drink the leaf water and go to sleep.

As Jack walked into his room holding the steaming cup, he swore he saw the screen of his laptop glitch. He clearly remembered leaving it on one of the paranormal activities discussion forums so he furrowed his brows as he approached it. The monitor was displaying… _cute golden retriever puppies?_

The Irishman wasn't sure why he spoke up the name but it left his mouth faster than he could stop it.

"Mark?"

It was barely a whisper but that was enough for the site to magically close again, returning the screen to its previous state.

"What the fuck," Jack placed the mug down and slammed the laptop shut.

 

* * *

 

To say he was panicking would be an understatement. Mark was basically freaking out when he accidentally manipulated the screen on the computer. He really didn't mean to do it, he was just thinking about Chica again when he saw his soulmate play with the cat. Sure, he didn't complain when the laptop displayed several photos of adorable dogs, they never failed to make his heart melt. But then Jack walked in and he saw what was going on.

When the Irishman spoke the ghost's name, the American thought he was going to jump out through the window with embarrassment. He could've just screwed up royally his chances of not being kicked out of the apartment. To his relief, Jack only closed the device and sat down on his bed with a sigh.

Mark looked at the green-haired man who was holding the hot cup of tea as he leant back against the headboard. Neither of them said or did anything for a while, though they were clearly aware of each other's presence at this point. The ghost hesitated but the thought of giving his soulmate comfort lingered at the back of his mind. Maybe if he tried being careful this time, he'd manage not to scare Jack off.

He took his chance when the Irishman closed his eyes, pressing the mug closer to himself. The warmth of it must've been comforting as his breathing was slow and even. Mark moved closer to the bed, pretending to sit down next to Jack. He brushed his fingers against the other's arm, waiting for any sort of a reaction. When the green-haired man didn't do anything sudden, the ghost scooted even closer, now wrapping a whole arm around his shoulders. He sighed heavily.

"Why can't I do it for real…?" He looked at the man sitting right next to him. It was a bit surprising when he saw Jack's expression turn into a relaxed one, especially when his lips formed a genuine smile. The American felt his soulmate lean back into the invisible touch and he had to admit, it felt tingly a bit, although pleasant.

Mark risked it, but he rested his head against Jack's chest, feeling happiness take over his mind as well. After a while, the Irishman's breathing slowed down even more and then he was sleeping peacefully and happy for the first time in maybe… forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the next chapter will be ready within a month! Now that there are only two chapters left, I wanna finish the story soon.


	7. Can I just say "hi"...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _... Or do we start from the beginning?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I will get the final chapter out within a month, or else you can scream at me in the comments. This time for real, even if it kills me.

The next day Jack didn't feel like going to work but he had to, obviously. He could barely focus on doing his job, though and pretty much all of his colleagues noticed that. Even Robin was getting more and more confused and a bit concerned with the green-haired Irishman's behaviour.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" He waved his hand in front of Jack's face as the other was zoned out.

"What?" The blue-eyed man jumped up when something blurry came into his vision. He shifted his gaze to Robin, though his eyes still looked pretty much lost. "No, no! I'm fine!"

"It's the very first time I've seen the paperwork on your desk only pile up, you know?" The other man tilted his head, worry clear on his face. "You've been acting off for the past few days. You've always been on time and never missed a day, so I think you could take a day off if you don't feel alright.”

"No, it’s not necessary. I’m okay.” Jack scrunched up his brows. Robin shrugged and left additional documents on the small mountain of paper.

When he was out of the Irishman's view, the green-haired man hid his face in his hands as he rested his elbows on the desk and let out an exasperated groan. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd read the previous evening and there was no way he was getting it out of his head. Jack even considered continuing the research at work, though his computer was out there for anybody else to see so he'd probably get caught immediately. Jack sight. It seems like he had no choice but to at least pretend he was focusing on going through the paperwork for the next few hours.

 

* * *

 

"My name! He knows my name!"

If Mark could physically touch the cat, he'd definitely have picked it up a long time ago and spun around, holding it in his arms. The animal was lucky that his ghostly body would only phase through it and so the feline sat on the floor and stared at the spirit with an unamused look.

"You've heard it, you can't deny that! He knows I'm here, he knows my name!" Mark's own expression was stuck between happiness and fear. He did want to believe that Jack had finally accepted him as an accidental roommate but at the same time, the worry of the Irishman having bad intentions towards the ghost was hanging in the air.

"That's such a great progress!" The American even wanted to jump, though every time he bent his legs to launch himself into the air, his feet ended up going through the floor. It took him a while to get the hang of it but he managed to float up and down as a form of expressing excitement.

The cat let out a noise that indicated it was getting annoyed with his behaviour. But for some reason it didn't leave him, keeping him under its watchful gaze.

"So what do I do next? Do I try to strike a casual conversation? It should work, right?" Mark rubbed the stubble on his chin. "But what should I even talk about? Do I even introduce myself?"

The animal laid down and squeaked again, this time the sound being drawn out for as long as it could muster.

"What, is ten questions not fun enough for you?" The raven-haired ghost snorted and crouched next to the feline. "Sometimes you're cute, you know? I wish I could pet you."

The cat rolled over and purred, though it would swat Mark's hand away and hiss if he tried to touch it.

"Well… I guess I can try improvising, too. It's always seemed to work," he laughed and blinked at the pet. It blinked back.

 

* * *

 

Again, Jack almost forgot to prepare anything to eat once he got back to his apartment. Without a care in the world, he rushed to the bedroom and closed the door, hoping the ghost was loitering around in any other room of his home. He reopened all the tabs from the day before and continued reading from where he left off.

Sometimes he'd feel some sort of a presence in the room but whenever he turned around, there was nothing for him to see. But still, it was impossible to ignore the phantom pressure on his shoulder, as if someone was resting their hand there.

It didn't take the Irishman long before he got to the articles that actually interested him. They didn't only describe paranormal presence in someone's life but actual meetings with ghosts as well. Hearing voices, witnessing floating objects being carried by something invisible, animals acting strangely… Everything fit the description of whatever the hell was going on in his life.

All of the stories had the same conclusion, that left Jack dumbfounded.

"No," he'd mutter to himself as he moved on to another article. And another one. And another one.

No matter how he looked at it, they all had something in common. And it wasn't just about having a ghost in your life. Every single person that had experienced it would say that the ghost wasn't just any random spirit. The more they believed it to be their friend, the closer they got to hearing and seeing it. And once they reached the level that allowed them to freely communicate, there was one thing those ghosts wanted to tell them.

They were their soulmates.

After a fifth or so story, the green-haired man couldn't deny it any longer. He shut the lid of his laptop in frustration.

"I don't have a soulmate," he grumbled stubbornly as he laid back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "I definitely don't need one."

But something squeezed his heart and the emptiness in his soul hurt again.

 

* * *

 

"Oh shit."

Mark wished he was more eloquent in that moment but as he read whatever was on Jack's screen, the words just slipped out. Thankfully the Irishman didn't hear them.

Technically, that was the final step the ghost wanted Jack to take - to acknowledge him as his soulmate. But there was only one problem. The green-haired man was in an utter denial. He didn't want to believe in soulmates, no matter what. Mark's own heart ached when he watched the slouched up figure. It was so hard to think that someone could be so pitiful, so convinced of his life being devoid of happiness.

But that was the entire reason he was there. Mark wanted to help. He knew he could change Jack's life somehow. Maybe that was why he didn't pass away but stayed behind on the earth? Maybe the ghosts had to fulfil some sort of a quest before they could earn the eternal peace. The American wasn't sure about anything but he liked to think Jack's happiness was his reason. Not only because he wanted an explanation for his state of being but because in Mark’s opinion the Irishman genuinely deserved something more in his life than to simply exist.

The rest of the day was surprisingly uneventful. Jack left his bedroom after around half an hour of sulking to eat and feed his cat, then played with the animal for a while before he went to sleep. This went on for at least two more days. With each passing day, the green-haired man looked a bit more miserable, a bit more tired. And with each day Mark grew more and more worried for his soulmate.

That was, until one particular evening.

 

* * *

 

Jack was sitting on the bed, scrolling through Facebook. His picture didn't get too much attention overall but it wasn't like he cared. He just happened to look at it every now and then to check if the blurred shadow was still there. He clicked his tongue as he remembered something from the article.

_The key to communication is acknowledging the fact that the spirit is near you and trying to reach out on your own._

So far Jack tried it only once when he blurted out the ghost's name. It wasn't exactly a successful type of communication as it only led to his laptop screen freaking out. Maybe he could do it again, see what would happen _. “It’s not like I have anything to lose”_ Jack thought. 

The green-haired man threw his phone aside and rubbed his eye. A minute passed and he yawned. Was he really going to do it? He took a deep breath and spoke up as clearly as he could.

"Mark, are you here?"

The room was so silent he could almost hear his own heartbeat. The muscle that pumped his blood was thumping in his chest. Why was he getting so nervous? Maybe a part of his mind that had seen too many horror movies was expecting some sort of an abomination to show up. Who was to say ghost had to look human?

Jack's breathing picked up the pace and he smiled nervously as he continued.

"Mark, show yourself. Those days ago, … I heard you back then. I'd like to know at least who you are."

The Irishman waited and waited, staring at the wall in front of him. Maybe the ghost would react if he looked at him but he had no idea where it could be standing. If it was even in the room. Minutes passed and Jack was slowly losing hope, internally scolding himself for believing in something so stupid.

But just as he wanted to turn the light off and go to sleep, he caught some sort of movement with the corner of his eye. He turned his head towards the shadows, noticing… something. It was standing there, in the darkness. Jack's eyes widened as he recognized a human's silhouette.

Finally, he stepped out of the darkness. He was a bit curled up, his face hesitant. But he was definitely staring back at Jack.

"… Hi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Foreshadowing... :))))_


	8. I want you to be happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _.... Even if I'm not the reason._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... This is it! The final chapter!  
> It's crazy to think that after all this time I'm about to end the story. I hope it doesn't disappoint!

"Hey."

Jack sat still on his bed. It was right in front of him. That ghost. That damned spirit haunting his apartment. He'd thought he was ready for the confrontation but when it came to the real thing, the Irishman couldn't even say a word.

The ghost tilted his head a bit and took a step towards the human. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you…" He reached out with his arm.

Jack finally moved, scooting away on his bed. He was suddenly shivering and he hated it. The green-haired man thought he had enough courage to meet the ghost that seemed to be even more harmless than his own cat. But maybe subconsciously he had been hoping the spirit wasn't real. And yet he was right there, talking to him.

"S-stay right where you are!" Jack pointed at the ghost. So he could speak, after all, that was some progress.

'Mark' froze in place, now confusion written all over his face. His arm was still extended in a friendly gesture, almost as if he wanted a handshake.

The Irishman quickly snatched his phone from the pillow and pulled up the photo again. He looked up and down several times, comparing the shadow in the picture and the spirit standing in front of him.

Well, the silhouette was about the same. That was something. Jack couldn't make out the hair shape but both ghosts seemed to have some sort of a fluff going on their heads. The green-haired man decided to risk it and turned the phone around so Mark could see the screen.

"Was that you?"

Jack almost yelped when the ghost leant forward to get a better look at the picture. He squinted his eyes and after a while, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I kind of photobombed you there."

The Irishman sucked the air through his nose rapidly and looked back at the photo. Though now the spirit was having a hard time trying to stop himself from smiling. That resulted in Mark having a ridiculous expression that made him look like he wanted to either cry or laugh.

"S-stop that! It's not funny!" Jack shouted defensively. That only amused the ghost even more and soon Mark was laughing.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just- your face! It's hilarious!"

"What about my face, you jerk?!" The green-haired man's voice cracked mid-sentence and it was enough to fuel Mark's laughter for another five minutes.

"The way you knit your eyebrows, especially with those big eyes!" The ghost would've probably been rolling on the floor if the gravity was still affecting him.

Jack felt a blush of embarrassment creep up to his cheeks. Being made fun of by the ghost that used to scare the living crap out of you wasn't exactly pleasant. Thankfully Mark had some mercy left in his aethereal heart and soon stopped his laughing fit.

"I sincerely apologise." The ghost cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to scare you or, well…" He smiled sheepishly.

"Well, you sure did break the tension," Jack huffed. "At least it doesn't feel like some sort of a low-budget horror movie anymore."

"Horror movie? Really?" Mark sounded amused. "Exactly which part?"

"I dunno." The Irishman shrugged. He was surprisingly okay now with talking to the ghost. "Maybe my cat staring at the wall ominously. Or the pictures of puppies haunting my laptop."

The spirit giggled again and Jack would be a liar if he said he didn't find that laughter cute. The way it was so light-hearted and contagious made his heart tingle with happiness.

"I used to have a golden retriever. She was a real curie and I guess I miss her."

"Oh." The green-haired man gave himself a mental slap for the lack of better words. "So… how did this happen?"

He wondered if that was considered rude to ask a ghost about their death. Were there even any rules to the afterlife, like an etiquette of talking to spirits?

Mark looked at himself and sighed before turning his gaze back to Jack. "That's a bit embarrassing to admit, I got hit by a truck."

"Ouch." The Irishman flinched. "That must've hurt."

"You know, I actually don't remember the pain. I was more upset about leaving my friends and family. God, I still think how devastating it must've been to my mom…"

Jack broke the eye contact before Mark did. It was a sensitive subject and he felt he shouldn't pry if he didn't even know the guy that well. He took a deep breath and after a moment of silence asked the question that'd been on his mind since pretty much the beginning of it all.

"Why are you here?"

Although he wasn't given the permission, Mark walked up to the bed and sat down. Jack didn't protest, he didn't even feel the mattress dip under him. He noticed that the ghost was actually floating barely above the covers.

"It's funny how despite standing among the people who were closest to me, seeing them all mourn my dead body I thought about one more person. Someone I had never met in my life…"

"Me," Jack whispered, finishing the other's thought.

"I knew I had to find you. I couldn't just abandon my soulmate."

The Irishman gulped audibly when Mark looked at him. The sincerity he saw in those eyes sent shivers down his spine. He took a shaky breath and let out a miserable chuckle.

"And there I was, convincing myself I had no soulmate, that it was my life and I didn't need anyone."

Somehow, now that he was able to see and talk to Mark with how close the spirit was, the green-haired man felt the emptiness in his heart slowly fill up. It was a feeling unlike any other and before he knew it, he got closer to Mark, reaching out to touch him. Even though his hand went through the ethereal body, the second they made contact, he felt the familiar tingle spread through his entire body.

They looked at each other, now closer than ever before and with a silent agreement Mark wrapped his arms around Jack as best as he could. The Irishman pretended to rest his head on the ghost's shoulder and the happiness that filled his heart left him smiling the way he'd never even tried.

"So that's how it feels, huh?" He whispered.

"I'm sorry I was too late," Mark kept his voice quiet as well. "I promise I'll try to give you the happiness you deserve."

"Does it make you happy too?" Jack seemed to ignore the other's words for now.

The spirit was silent for a minute or two before answering, "… Yes. Yes, it does."

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them breaking the perfect silence. For once in their lives, they could enjoy the closeness of their soulmate.

A considerable amount of time had passed before the Irishman sat back up straight with a yawn. He glanced at his phone and clicked his tongue.

"I should go to sleep."

"Oh," Mark sounded caught off guard. "Right. We don't want you to be tired tomorrow!"

"So." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you going to leave or…?"

"If you want me to…" The spirit sounded upset and it took the green-haired man a while to realise what he'd said sounded wrong.

"No, no! I didn't mean it that way! I only wanted to ask if you'd leave the bedroom."

"Oh! Right! Yes!" Mark stood up and his voice was a bit too loud. The guy acted like a hyperenergetic dog out of a sudden.

"Goodnight, Mark." Jack smiled. It was still a weird expression to wear on his face but he hoped to get used to it in the nearest future. "We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

"We sure will." And with those words, the ghost disappeared back into the shadows.

 

* * *

 

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"Jack, we've discussed this a hundred times already."

"What if she doesn't like the place? Or what if the food is bad?"

"Jack!" Mark yelled, putting his hands on the Irishman's shoulders. "She knows the place, you've picked it together for heaven's sake! Now, stop worrying about every single detail, you need to relax and just be yourself."

"I thought I needed to change myself."

The green-haired man was currently fixing his hair for the fifth time, still undecided whether to sweep the fringe to the left or right side.

"I meant your attitude at work!" The ghost huffed and wished he could slap those hands away because Jack was ruining a perfectly natural hairstyle. "Leave it alone, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

They were currently in the middle of the meticulous process that was getting Jack ready for a date.

After the fateful meeting, Mark told Jack about his wish to make him happy. While the Irishman was a bit reluctant, he agreed to give it a try. And thus the great change in his life began. The ghost helped Jack with his self-confidence, or lack thereof and everything was relatively easy from that point. When the green-haired man changed his mind about socialising and started leaving his apartment more often, Mark felt like a proud mother. Jack even admitted it himself, that it all made him feel better about his life.

And so one day the Irishman met a sweet girl that just so happened to be single as well. While the ghost might've been a bit too pushy, now that they were preparing Jack for the date, Mark regretted absolutely nothing. If he hadn't practically forced his soulmate to talk to her, he might've ended up boring holes into her skull with his stare. Jack sucked at hiding his slowly forming crush.

"She likes you just the way you are. Why should you put so much effort into looking not like yourself?"

The green-haired man rubbed the back of his neck in awkwardness. "I don't want to screw this up…"

"I'll be right there to support you!" Mark gave him a thumbs-up and Jack laughed.

When the Irishman was ready to go, the ghost pretended to push him out of the door. Of course, it still made them both shiver a bit with that indescribable feeling, so they giggled to one another.

It was weird for Jack to describe, but after so little time spent together he and Mark felt like the best of friends. Almost as if the spirit had been there for the green-haired man his whole life. He supposed that was what being soulmates meant.

"Just go already! You don't want to keep a lady waiting, do you?"

"Jeez, Mark, I've still got half an hour."

"It's better to be early and make an impression of someone who has your life together."

"Or someone who's a bit too horny."

The ghost clicked his tongue and pretended to punch Jack's arm. They laughed again and soon left the apartment.

 

* * *

 

Mark was hiding in the bush just outside of the restaurant. Thankfully Jack picked the seat by the window so he could easily spy on him and his date. Technically there was no need to hide for him since only the Irishman and animals could see him, and no pets were allowed inside. But the ghost felt that he might be distracting Jack with his presence. He was sure the green-haired man was ready to handle it all by himself anyway.

The girl's name was Signe. She and the Irishman clicked together pretty soon because she just so happened not to be with her soulmate either. Although her reasons were a bit different, since she admitted her soulmate was out there in the world, it just didn't work out between them. Signe even said she'd thought she'd never find anyone in the world where everyone had their soulmate, so Jack was a sort of a blessing in disguise. While he didn't tell her that his own soulmate was dead and watching them at that moment, he was planning on introducing Mark in some way.

About halfway through the ghost started to feel a bit weird. He couldn't exactly point out or give it a name but it was strong enough to distract him from the date. He looked at his body - it should be normal for a spirit not to feel anything but the strange numbness was spreading through his form. Was he always that transparent?

When Mark glanced back at Jack and Signe, he noticed the green-haired man giving him a worried look. The ghost decided it was time to leave it all to his soulmate. He phased through the restaurant's wall to tell Jack what he thought.

"I'm going to leave you two alone now. You're doing great! Look how much fun she's having with you."

The Irishman tried not to look at the ghost, only side-glancing in the direction of the window for spare seconds as he listened to both Mark and Signe talk. If he turned his head, the girl might think he was ignoring her.

"You'll tell me all about it later, alright?"

Jack nodded and when Mark squeezed his shoulder as an encouraging gesture, he shuddered a bit.

"Everything alright?" Signe asked, tilting her head.

"Y-yeah. Sorry, I spaced out there for a second, please continue."

The ghost looked at them both. His soulmate looked genuinely happy. Mark couldn't feel prouder of him. In the end, he managed to find the happiness in his life without him, and that was all that mattered.

The spirit didn't look at anything on his way back to the apartment. He took the shortest possible way, going through various buildings, sometimes passing through people and different objects. He only stopped when found himself in Jack's living room.

Obviously, what made him snap out of the thoughts on the date was a familiar meow. The cat was sitting on the kitchen table, staring at the ghost.

"Hi," Mark waves at it and walked into the room. "How are you?"

The animal squeaked, it's usually bored expression looking a bit more energetic. Its ears twitched as it opened its mouth and it approached the ghost until it was standing on the edge of the table.

"It's going well. Jack looked happy with her, you know?"

The cat didn't stop interrupting him with sounds. The spirit didn't pay too much attention to them, the sight of his soulmate smiling the only thing on his mind.

"I think they'll hit it off pretty well."

Mark finally glanced at his arms. They were definitely much more see-through than they'd been before. The realisation hit him at once.

"What's going on…?"  The ghost muttered and looked back at the cat. "Am I…?"

He didn't finish his thought, voice cracking with emotions. He felt sad and happy at the same time. Mark couldn't stop thinking about Jack's date. He found someone, and Signe made the Irishman smile like he wasn't used to. The spirit had no reason to be upset about it.

And yet the emotions just kept building up. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, even when the animal jumped off the table to try to brush against the ghost. Mark's limbs were practically gone at that point.

"Oh." His voice, full of confused feelings, was now barely above a whisper. "…I suppose my time's up."

The cat had never sounded so worried. Mark had always thought it hated him but now it looked so concerned he couldn't help but smile through the inner pain. He crouched and gently touched its head. Surprisingly, the animal didn't flinch away, leaning closer.

"Take care of Jack for me, alright? Though I'm sure you'll keep him safe anyway."

He got a quiet meow in response and that made him chuckle.

Mark's thoughts were slowly calming down, disappearing one after another. He closed his eyes and let the darkness envelop his mind.

There was nothing to feel anymore. His aethereal body gone, his mind perfectly silent. But he was, in a way, happy.

He fulfilled his promise.

Jack got the happiness he deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Every single person that supported this story during the time I was writing it, I'm thankful for your comments and kudos. I certainly didn't expect this fanfiction to gain so much attention.  
> It wasn't even a big project and I didn't know where exactly I'd take the idea, but here we are. I'm glad I managed to finish it. But I couldn't have done it without you. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  
> If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment, I appreciate any sort of response. And check out my other works!


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